The Chronicles of Nonchalance
by prustyRAJ
Summary: A series of ONE-SHOTS where Harry acts with a calmness that he doesn't know he is capable of and change something from the cannon. Can be converted into multi-chaptered fics. H/Hr


_**Dis**__**claimer:- Hi, I am J. and I was checking my bank accounts for million pound of misplaced money when I came upon this site and thought to refresh my writing skills. That's all!**_

**THE CHRONICLES OF NONCHALANCE**

**I**

**CAREERS ADVICE**

Harry was running, sweating and was in a very bad mood. In short, he was pissed off.

He had viewed Snape's worst memory a few days ago and saw his dad acting like a complete jerk, which in turn made that memory Harry's worst memory too. Now that he thought about it, this whole year has been the worst one for him. He hadn't even managed to get out of the disaster that was _Cedric's_ death and the horrific return of _Lord Voldemort_, when he was attacked by the _bloody_ Dementors. He survived…however narrowly, but was slapped with charges against him for defending himself and had to tolerate the farce that was his trial.

As if that was not enough, when he returned to _Hogwarts_, wanting nothing more than to spend time with his friends, playing Quidditch and preparing for the O.W.L., what he got instead, was fearful and angry stares from most of the school, a life ban from Quidditch (that _bitch_ took his Firebolt too! He still can't believe it!) and his mind constantly rapped by _Snape_.

Thinking of Snape, he got incensed all over again. Ignoring him was fine even enchanting for Harry, but Snape took out his anger by failing him. That's _sneaky_ bastard! With a jolt, Harry was reminded of the disastrous ending of D.A. due to the treacherous Marietta Edgecombe. But he couldn't help smiling remembering her horribly disfigured face. SNEAK. Hermione had done a damn good job on that curse. Really he loved that girl. _Where did that came from?_

Shaking his head, Harry ran faster and arrived out of breath, only a few minutes late for his careers advice meeting with McGonagall in her office.

'Sorry, Professor,' he panted, as he closed the door. 'I forgot.'

'No matter, Potter,' McGonagall said briskly, but as she spoke, somebody else sniffed from the corner. Harry looked around and his faced burnt with anger.

Dolores Umbridge was sitting there, a clipboard on her knee, a fussy little pie-frill around her neck and a small, horribly smug smile on her face. This was the _creature_ responsible for most of his trouble. She had made his life hell at Hogwarts and she was sitting there in all her glory, just a few feet from him. Harry clenched his fist.

'Sit down, Potter,' came the voice of Professor McGonagall tersely. Her hands shook slightly as she shuffled the many pamphlets littering her desk.

Harry sat down with his back to Umbridge and did his best to pretend that he could not hear the scratching of her quill on her clipboard. She was really getting him riled up and he could feel blood on his clenched fists.

'Well, Potter, this meeting is to talk over any career idea you might have, and to help you decide which subjects you should continue into the sixth and seventh years,' said Professor McGonagall. 'Have you had any thoughts about what you would like to do after leaving Hogwarts?'

'Err…' said Harry. He was finding the scratching noise from behind him very distracting and not to forget that he was almost ready to throttle _her_ on the spot.

'Yes?' Professor McGonagall prompted Harry. And that suddenly calmed him.

He had thought of being an auror, but now he was not so sure. No, he was surer than ever that he did not want to become an auror. He did not want to fight evil at every step of his life. He had other dreams, other _desires_…he remembered the _Mirror of Erised_. He wanted a family. His own family; not borrowed from and shared by his friend. He thought of Sirius and how he wanted to talk to him about his dad. That reminded him of why he can not talk to him whenever he wanted to and he got angry again, but, this time the anger came with calmness he had never felt before.

Looking up, he saw professor McGonagall waiting for his reply and heard the scratching noise from Umbridge. It's high time he returned some of what he got. Taking a deep breathe he started.

'Yes, I thought about it, quite a lot actually.' For a moment McGonagall looked pleased that he was thinking about his career until Harry continued, with the calmness he did not knew he was capable of, 'After I kill _Voldemort_ (McGonagall winced and Harry heard a stifled noise from behind) and if I survive, it's bye-bye wizarding world for me. I think I would take-up a quite house, in a neighborhood, where people do not gawk at me like some zoo-animal, get married, have kids, start a family I always wanted, basically, a househusband. I am sure _Hermione_ would find something to occupy herself ('where_ the hell did that came from?_' Harry wondered in terror, but he was not going to stop now!). My parents had left me enough money so I wouldn't have to work for the rest of my life. Now if you have any course that teaches me how to be a good husband and father then I will be glad to hear it!'

Harry finished in the same calm voice and noticed that McGonagall was staring at him as if he had gone nuts and he couldn't hear anything from Umbridge's corner. He fought the temptation to turn around and look at her expression and waited for the bomb to drop.

'Are you kidding, Potter?' Professor McGonagall asked incredulously, her lips very thin and eyes narrow.

'Does it look like I am laughing, Professor?' Harry asked calmly. Professor McGonagall almost gasped and looked down.

'Uh…err…no…we do not offer such courses at Hogwarts…but…err…' Professor McGonagall replied meekly ignoring Harry's question. She was mumbling and shuffling the many pamphlets littering her desk like a first year student, very unlike the strict, no-nonsense teacher that she portrayed.

'Well, in that case, there is nothing more to discuss,' Harry said, getting up to leave. 'Thanks for your time, Professor.'

McGonagall could only give a slight nod still staring at the empty chair as Harry walked to the door. He could not resist taking a peep on Umbridge who was looking like she had accidentally swallowed a lemon, the size of a quaffle. Smirking Harry closed the door with a loud snap.

As he was returning to Great Hall, he had only one thought running across his mind. Sirius would be so proud of him!

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Minerva McGonagall was troubled and disturbed to the extent of panicking and that was saying something since she maintained a persona of calmness and strictness.

Minerva McGonagall was many things but what she was not was a _fool_. She knew, very well, the consequences of Harry Potter leaving the wizarding world. She was teaching at Hogwarts for more than two decades, so she was also well aware of the fact that most, if not all, of the muggle-born and muggle-raised witches and wizards leave the wizarding world, or at least the magical part of Britain, for better career opportunities. And McGonagall could hardly blame them, since the prejudice and bigotry of the magical Britain goes far beyond other parts of the world.

What disturbed her to the core was the calmness and certainty, with which Mr. Potter was declaring his future plans, as if there were no options left. She was not unknown to the trials and complexity of his life, specially this year, but she had expected him to come out of this stronger than ever. Clearly she was over expecting! One can take as much before snapping and it looked like Mr. Potter had reached his breaking point.

That was the reason she was pacing in her office late that night. Usually she would just inform her troubles to Dumbledore and sleep in peace knowing and believing that the brilliant old wizard would come out with a solution sooner or later. But she couldn't do that now, can she? Albus Dumbledore was not in the castle, in fact, he had been on the run from the ministry for more than a month and she had no idea how to contact him. She could not think of anyone else who can help her on this matter. No, she had to take matter into her own hands and she will, but what can she do?

She stopped pacing and thought about her options. She knew she could not confront Potter directly. That would be a downright nasty meeting, she could imagine very well the arguments she would throw at him and the backlash she would receive in return. No! She had to think of something else but what…or rather _who_!

"…I am sure _Hermione_ would find something to occupy herself…"

'Miss. Granger!' McGonagall paused in her thoughts. 'Of course! She is his best friend and if I have read correctly _between the lines_ of Mr. Potter, then he cares deeply for her, very deeply indeed.' She started pacing again. 'Miss Granger is very smart witch, the smartest of her age in fact, so she can easily sense any deception from me and that's saying something.' Well she would have to be honest with her and convince her to talk with Mr. Potter. Yes! That was a good idea. And if all went well then there would be some more love in the world.

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'Miss Granger. Can I have a word with you, please?'

Hermione heard her name being called during the rush to go to Great hall for lunch, at the end of the Transfiguration class. She looked around and found Professor McGonagall looking at her expectantly.

'I will see you later. Save me a seat.' She said to Harry and Ron. They nodded and left with others. Hermione waited for the last person (Parvati and Padma!) to leave before going over to McGonagall who was finished arranging their assignments.

McGonagall waved her wand and closed the door and put a _silencio_, before fixing Hermione with a probing gaze. Hermione looked inquiringly at her professor, after five years she was hardly surprised by McGonagall's activity, but she found it strange nonetheless. After a sort of staring contest, McGonagall sighed.

'Please, sit down, Miss Granger.' McGonagall said tiredly, before sitting down herself on her straight backed chair. Hermione kept her bag on the desk, sat down on the chair and waited for McGonagall to explain her odd behavior.

'Tell me, Miss Granger, what you think of Mr. Potter?' asked Professor McGonagall after a short span of silence. Now Hermione was surprised by that question, but due to her habit of answering any and every question of teachers, her response was automatic.

'Well, he is a great wizard.' Hermione started with compassion, describing her best friend, 'He is brave, kind, honest, sweet…'

'I know what he is, Miss Granger.' McGonagall interrupted her. 'Everyone knows that. Let me rephrase my question, "What do you feel about Mr. Potter?"'

'_Professor_?!' gasped Hermione, clearly startled by the bluntness of Professor McGonagall.

'Why are you so surprised, Miss Granger?' McGonagall asked, amused by her favorite student's extreme reaction. 'Surely, you must have realized by now that questions will arise, time and again, about your closeness with Mr. Potter.'

'Clo…closeness, professor?' Hermione was not prepared for this sort of questioning, when McGonagall called her for a _word_.

'Calm down, Miss Granger,' McGonagall said serenely, noticing her student's nervousness. 'And yes. Closeness! Or haven't you noticed that you are Mr. Potter's favorite lady and you have enjoyed that place for the past five years.'

'_Favorite lady? Harry's favorite lady!_ Wow! She had never thought of that. That feels good. Take that Cho! ("Where did that came from?")' Hermione's conflicting thoughts were interrupted again by McGonagall.

'Well, you did not answer me, Miss Granger' asked McGonagall, reminding Hermione of her previous question.

'_Oh no!_' groaned Hermione mentally, but said, 'We are best friends, Professor. There is nothing more between us.'

'Yet.' McGonagall added coolly.

'Yet!' Hermione gasped excitedly? frightfully? elatedly? She had no idea. Right now, her brilliant brain was nothing more than a whirlpool of confusion. What was going on? Why was McGonagall suddenly so interested in her relationship with Harry? Why was she so confused?

McGonagall sighed heavily. She was a firm believer in letting nature running its course and what she going to do was conflicting her belief, but she also believed that this time the stakes were too high to be a mere spectator. So she decided to go forth.

'Yesterday, I had a meeting with Mr. Potter regarding his career advice and…' she paused here, thinking how to proceed, 'well…let me say that I was shocked, to say the least, hearing his plan.' And the floodgate was open.

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Hermione was walking slowly towards the Great hall, perhaps, to delay the inevitable talk with Harry. Her mind was a vortex of emotions. She was horrified, but not entirely surprised, to hear that Harry wanted to leave the wizarding world. She was content and even glad, to know that Harry was thinking about having his own family. And above all she was confused that Harry wanted _her_ in his family. She was not confused about McGonagall's statement of "you should talk to him, Miss Granger" nor was she confused about why Harry wanted her. What she was confused was her own emotions.

When she heard McGonagall telling her about Harry's slip-of-tongue (she was sure that was it!), she did not feel stunned, as she would expect. What she felt instead was tranquility, as if she had known all along that Harry and she would make a family someday. But now, as her legs were taking her towards the Great hall, her nervousness was mounting with every step.

What if Harry had not meant it? What if McGonagall had somehow heard wrong? What if she couldn't talk to Harry like she had planned on her way from McGonagall's office to the Great Hall? What if she started stuttering like those girls, who had asked Harry to the Yule ball last year? What if…what if…

The Great hall came into view as she walked towards the Gryffindor table nonchalantly (or she tried to!), ignoring everything else but Harry. As she walked nearer and found Harry looking at her with those mesmerizing green eyes, a sudden calmness took over her and she walked more confidently towards him.

'What did she want?' asked Harry, as soon as Hermione came near enough to hear.

'Oh! You saved me a seat.' Hermione exclaimed, noticing the empty space near Harry and sitting down close to him. 'Thanks!'

'Err…you are welcome' said Harry, confused that Hermione ignored his question. But before he could contemplate anymore over it, Hermione interrupted his thoughts.

'What is our next class?' Hermione asked, after drinking some pumpkin juice (the meeting with McGonagall had taken away her appetite!).

'Um…History of Magic?' Ron almost asked her, shocked that Hermione could ever forget the timetables.

'Oh good, you better take good notes in it, Ron.' Hermione said, glaring at her red headed friend, who was looking like he had been sentenced to live with the acramantulas for the rest of his life.

'Why can not you…' Ron started but was interrupted Hermione, 'Because Harry and I am going to miss this class.'

Ron's mouth was wide open. Even imagining Hermione missing a class was too much for him. Harry, however, was now looking at Hermione inquisitively. He was about to ask her, when the bell rang signaling the end of lunch. The noises of students hurrying for their next classes overwhelm their senses for a while. After a few moments, Harry looked towards Ron who was still sitting with a horror expression on his face.

'Go on, Ron,' chided Hermione, sending him to class, 'and mind you take complete notes of Binn's lecture.'

Ron said something about her over expecting him or Binn, but they could not listen and he was gone. Hermione turned and her expression was nervous, but she looked straight into Harry's eyes.

'We need to talk,' she said strongly 'come with me.' With that said she got up from the bench, shouldered her book bag and marched out of the Great Hall without a second look at Harry. Harry had no choice but to repeat the steps and follow her.

Hermione was walking with a purpose that much Harry could discern by her stance, not that he had thought for a single that Hermione would skip a class (even if it's Binn!) for idle chit-chat. They walked towards the Gryffindor common room and Harry was baffled when Hermione passed it without a second look.

'Um…Hermione?' asked Harry uncertainly, looking at her back as she marched ahead.

'No, we are going to the room of requirement.' Hermione announced to his unasked question.

Shrugging, Harry followed and soon they reached at the stretch of wall which conceals the wondrous room. Without breaking a step, Hermione passed the wall to and fro three times and suddenly a door appeared. They both pushed open the door and looked upon the exact replica of their common room they just passed. Harry looked enquiringly at Hermione, who smiled bashfully.

'I thought we would be more comfortable in a familiar setting,' she replied and hurried on when Harry started to say something, 'and there will be other students in the Gryffindor common room.'

'Oh! Fair enough.' Harry said as he went and sat sown on the _oh-so-familiar_ couch and looked up at Hermione, who was suddenly looking nervous, 'So, what do you want to talk about?'

Hermione sighed and sat down near Harry, facing him. She contemplate about where she would start, biting her bottom lip which she did when she was thinking. Somehow planning on what to tell Harry was so much easier than to actually sit with him and talk. But she had to talk soon or Harry might think she had finally gone over the edge worrying over O..

'Is everything alright, Hermione?' Harry's concerned voice reached her brain and she looked up to see Harry's eyes crinkled with anxiety.

'Yes, all is well,' Hermione said hurriedly and then decided to go for it. 'Professor McGonagall told me about your careers advice meeting. She was really worried about what you said and so am I.'

She stopped suddenly and an uncomfortable silence fell over them. Harry looked at her wide eyed as if he couldn't believe what she was saying. Wasn't that meeting supposed to be private, in between teacher and student not _students_? And why exactly did she tell Hermione of all people? He noticed that Hermione was looking at anywhere but him.

'What exactly are you worried about?' asked Harry in a stringent voice. He did not like this talk at all. 'If it is about me leaving the wizarding world and starts another quite life then…'

'Of course not!' Hermione interrupted, indignantly, 'I don't blame you for thinking about leaving the wizarding world, that thought had crossed my mind too, many times actually and if anyone deserves a quite and happy life, it's you Harry, I know exactly what you have gone through. I was there with you most of the time, remember.'

'Then what exactly you…' Harry started but was interrupted again.

'I am worried about what you said about _me_. Well…not exactly. No. worried is not the right word for it. I don't even know what precisely I am feeling…it's more of a surprise like a bolt from the blue. Not that I have never thought about it. I have…but you have never shown any interest and I thought I should be gratified with what I have…and besides I don't want to lose what I have in going for something more…not that I wouldn't want more but well…it was all so sudden and McGonagall was saying it like she had seen it coming all along…and I felt stupid that she knew what I should have known first seeing that I was the subject…' Hermione was saying all these so rapidly that Harry hardly got the essence, not that it accomplished anything. Harry was at sea.

'Hermione!' he said loudly and she stopped speaking suddenly, 'what are you talking about?'

Hermione looked at him as if he had sprouted three heads out of his shoulders. She then gulped visibly, took a deep breathe and forced herself to relax.

'I am talking about what you said to Professor McGonagall about me.' Hermione repeated, this time slowly as if talking to a two year old. When Harry still looked mystified, she decided to take a more direct route. 'Didn't you said to McGonagall "_I am sure Hermione would find something to occupy herself!_" when you are talking about your future?'

'Oh!' gasped Harry, but instead of stuttering and bumbling and making a total fool of himself, like he had expected, he was engulfed in a familiar calmness that he experienced only once before. 'That just came out of my mouth before I could stop myself and you are not supposed to know about that…_yet_!'

'Yet!' wheezed Hermione, but it came out more as a squeak. That hardly deterred her from continuing, in a huff, 'What do you mean yet?'

'Well, I would not deny that I had not thought about it, I mean, you as more than friend.' Harry explained calmly, 'but I did not feel this is the right time for it, what with the disaster with Cho earlier and besides you are still in contact with Krum…'

'Viktor is just a friend and we just went to a ball. A ball, where you could have asked me too!' huffed Hermione angrily.

Harry noticed that she remained mum on Cho and had a strong urge to point it out to her, but did not want to test his luck. 'Hey! I was fourteen and an immature prat back then and now…'

'And now just a year later, you have become mature enough? How so?' interrupted Hermione again, her anger rising.

'Watching the murder of your friend gives you much more than just the ability to see Threstrals and a mental scar, Hermione.' Harry said that so calmly, you would feel he just reported there will be snow tonight.

Hermione's eyes went wide. She could have hit herself with the _Hogwarts: A History_. How could she have been so stupid? Without thinking, without saying anything, she lurched at Harry and hugged him tightly, more for her benefit than Harry's. Harry responded equally and pulled her tighter to him. All his calmness had evaporated out, when Hermione had jumped at him. Now his heart was beating fast and he was feeling unnaturally warm.

'Is it so hard to imagine _us_ together twenty years from now, Hermione?' Harry asked so softly, it might have been a whisper of wind. But Hermione heard him alright and that's what mattered.

'No, Harry, it is not.' She replied as softly.

They remained in that position, holding each other like a life support system, silent and yet talking miles a minute. Suddenly Hermione jumped apart and looked at Harry oddly. Harry reluctantly sat apart and when he saw Hermione looking at him, he felt nervous under her gaze.

'Harry,' Hermione started softly, but there was an edge in her voice, 'when were you going to tell me, if ever?'

Harry looked anywhere but at her, but answered anyway, 'After Voldemort is dead for good and once I gathered enough courage to tell you…'

Harry mumbled the last part feeling very hot around his neck. When he looked up at Hermione again, she was in deep thought and, as her habit, was biting her bottom lip. Harry kept looking mesmerized at her lips until she gave a happy sigh and looked at him.

'Well, just have to thanks Professor McGonagall then.' She said and then noticed where Harry's eyes were fixed upon. 'Are you going to do something about it or not?'

Harry blushed heavily without knowing he did. What would he do now? It's not like he had any experience in this situation. He had only Cho to…all of a sudden he got an idea and concentrated on making a demand to the room of requirement. A whooshing sound which startled Hermione and she looked up and saw mistletoe appearing out of thin air above them. She blushed and looked at Harry to see him smiling at his own brilliance and leaning towards her.

'Smooth, Potter!' she said softly and then leaned down for the kiss. It was a soft, chaste and sweet kiss that promised much more than even they could imagine. After the kiss ended, they looked into each other eyes and Hermione said smugly, 'I was right, you are definitely not a bad kisser!'

'I am sure you will help me prefect that art then!' Harry had a goofy grin on his face as he said that.

'Oh absolutely!' Hermione moaned before leaning down to start their practice.

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_**This is my very first fic, so please read and review, which will really motivate me to write more and more. Hop you enjoyed this fic! Thank you!**_


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